Cellulose Nitrate film was first invented in 1887, patented in 1889, and hit the public market in 1902. With it came a paradigm shift in the realm of publicly accessible cinematography. Nitrate film was flexible, light, and could be strung together in long rolls allowing for multiple photos to be taken in a row. It required fewer solvents and film preparation techniques than glass plate film and could be prepared in a fraction of the time. By lowering the entry point to casual photography, this invention brought forward waves of new photographers ready to capture their world on film. With them came a wider variety of subjects matters to be photographed
Military Day Parade of 1937
By the turn of the century, cellulose nitrate films were practically the bread and butter of the Eastman Kodak corporation; they were industrially mass-produced, and this newly efficient system of film production brought filmography to the masses. In the first third of the 20th century, it really seemed as if nitrates were the future of photography!
However, nitrate film did come with one insignificant, teeny tiny, itsy bitsy, almost imperceptible downside: it sometimes explodes. Specifically its image content deteriorated quickly, and deteriorated nitrate film was prone to spontaneously combust and explode. The only effective way to prevent these explosions, like what happened to the 1937 Fox Vault, is to freeze the nitrate film at sub-zero temperatures. Most storage facilities for nitrate film, like that of the Chicago History Museum, are massive freezers that keep nitrate film meant prevent instant combustion.
Members of the class of 1890,1891,and 1892 gather with family in 1921 for the 30th anniversary.
The Chicago History Museum alone has reportedly 35,000 films on site and thus the protection of those films before they are digitized is essential. At the University of Illinois Archives–with our lack of space for a multi-million-dollar refrigeration unit–have opted to have our nitrate films digitized before their potential explosion dates. We are left today with thousands of photos in pure digital form, and we feel committed to giving them a name and a retelling story that the physical films once held.
Five-Star General William ‘Blackjack’ Pershing stands outside University President David Kinley’ home with Kinley.
The Nitrate Digitization Project, as we’ve come to call it, is part passion project and part dedication to the history contained here at the University Archives. So many of these films are from members of the community whose legacy is stored in thousands of JP_2 files online. Namely, over 500 of the files digitized were by just one guy! A Champaign-Urbana resident and photographer, Bernard Strauch documented so many early images of buildings on campus that exist today. Some of the images in the project were orchestrated and planned out. Strauch often took class reunion photos for some of the earliest graduating classes.
Image that features the degradation of nitrate film that can occur
Where Strauch’s work truly shines is in his series of on-the-ground photos that capture a moment and were wholly unprompted. Whether it’s rushing to be on scene to see a derailed train just a day after the news broke, photographing all angles of a burned down church at what appears to be 6 in the morning, or even snagging photos of WWI general visiting campus, Strauch always made his mark with his images. So, we are seeking to do justice to Strauch’s work, and all those captured within the nitrate files, by reconstructing and retelling the stories captured almost a century ago. So, we hope to post bi-weekly ‘Tales from the Nitrate Negatives” as we can and work to dissect a world of the past both very alike, yet very alien from our own.
“Take it easy driving — the life you might save might be mine.” – James Dean, 1955
As citizens of the United States, we entrust our common defense and safety to the great leviathan called the federal government: sometimes that power manifests in the regulation and discouragement of behavior that puts lives – ours and others – in harm’s way. As a conduit for government initiatives, the Ad Council has encouraged safe driving habits for over 75 years. As administrations, automotive design trends, and public perception have shifted, the Council has remained steadfast on the importance of personal responsibility. Join us as we take a spin behind the wheel, exploring a multi-legged grand tour of Traffic PSAs from D-Day to today.
The enemy at home and the War abroad
Uncle Sam is in disbelief at the sheer number of injuries suffered in 1943
In 1943, the engines of war hummed, well-oiled machines churned out weapons, munitions, and other goods essential to the war effort. Unfortunately, the cogs in the machines frequently caught themselves in the gears, limiting their usefulness, if not utterly destroying themselves. These critical components were the citizens left behind. According to President Roosevelt, more Americans were killed and injured in accidents than combat. Each life lost and day of work missed impacted the US’s ability to be the “arsenal of democracy” in the battle against the Axis Powers. To win the war, the Government needed to mitigate its losses at home.
“Your Advertising Could Save Lives!” (c. 1944)
Together with the Office of War Information (OWI), the Ad Council began its first campaign on public safety. The “Stop Accidents” campaign identified the four most common causes of serious injuries in the United States: traffic collisions, incidents at home, workplace accidents, and farming accidents. While wary of all injury causes, traffic accidents were of greater concern. Fewer men on the roads meant less traffic. Less traffic and increased levels of stress encouraged more reckless behavior from drivers. Like in our time, traffic deaths and injuries increased while the number of people on the road decreased. The OWI and the Ad Council recruited companies with appeals to patriotism, religion, and charity. Families, employers, and even Uncle Sam suffered when someone lost their ability to work. The publication of ads that emphasized caution could save countless lives. It was the right thing to do. It was the virtuous thing to do. Above all else, it was the Christian thing to do.
Switching Gears in Post-War America
The end of World War Two also marked a transition in focus for the Ad Council’s Stop Accidents campaign. During the war, the reduction of workplace injuries, especially in the expanded defense sector, was a matter of national security. For one reason or another, the Council dropped this point of emphasis in 1946.
The Ad Council began to send traffic safety campaign calendars like this to advertising affiliates in 1949. These calendars allowed advertisers to create related advertisements to supplement the Green Cross campaign.
Another change was the switch to seasonal press kits. The Green Cross/Stop Accident campaign released advertising kits themed around traffic and driving quarterly beginning in Fall 1948. Each season focused on the hazards (both natural and man-made) that were prevalent at those times of the year. Fall focused on drunk driving, changing weather patterns, and the dangers of nighttime driving. The winter kit emphasized the hazards caused by winter weather and not taking proper precautions when driving. Summer slammed speed demons and road-ragers.
Within these kits were photographs and sketches of accidents. In an era before photographic ethics, some of these crash photos displayed the bodies of the deceased, showcasing the human toll of these preventable incidents. These images showed how quickly tank-like automobiles could turn into truncated tin cans. Like the CDC’s anti-smoking ads from the 2010s, the Ad Council hoped that showing disturbing images would discourage self-destructive behavior.
Green Cross/Stop Accidents Traffic Safety Kit, Fall 1949Green Cross/Stop Accidents Traffic Safety Kit, Fall 1948
Another reason for the graphic imagery in the sample advertisements is convenience. The Council encouraged their advertising partners to create ads to supplement existing campaign materials. Major newspapers had entire collections of traffic accident photos to choose from to use in the campaign. Wesley Nunn, then coordinator of the campaign, wrote to newspaper ad reps in 1949, “a little digging in your own newspaper file should furnish some surprising facts about the frequency of local auto accidents. Use these clippings as sales ammunition to convince business, civic, and social groups of the need for support of this campaign.”
Under Nunn, the Stop Accidents campaign transitioned away from shock value in advertising. The first advertising kit issued under Nunn’s leadership included a mix of existing advertising and stencils. These stencils traced over pictures of auto collisions but removed any depictions of human remains. Compare these two kits, one from 1948 and another from 1949. The 1948 poster includes multiple photos from the same horrific car crash. A lone policeman lurks in the background, almost like the specter of death, with the deceased still behind the wheel of his automobile. The image is haunting, direct, and pulls no punches. The 1949 sheet, by contrast, is tame and tasteful. A destroyed vehicle takes center stage once again. Conspicuously absent is the presence of people. The before image clearly shows people crossing the street but removes them from the after shot. This ad asks the viewer to infer what condition the occupants of the wrecked vehicle are in instead of putting them on display.
Stop Accidents Fall 1952Stop Accidents Spring 1954
Initially appointed as the program coordinator for just 1949, Nunn assumed a permanent position as the lead for the Green Cross campaign. Nunn’s status allowed further control of the images chosen for Ad Council materials. Possibly inspired by the successful Tom and Jerry shorts of the time, the images became increasingly surreal and fantastical. Ad kits were light-hearted and built around a theme related to the time of year in which they ran. One example is the Fall 1952 kit, designed to resemble a liquidation sale of goods and accessories. Instead of fur coats and designer goods, accidents and bad driving practices were priced to move. Nunn believed that earlier campaign tactics did not get the public to buy into safety and caution. In a letter from 1952, Nunn said, “We want readers to think and feel our story [the Stop Accidents campaign] and act upon it. We are definitely selling this whole idea of accident prevention.”
Nunn’s run as the volunteer coordinator for the campaign ended in 1954. The final packet issued under Nunn’s stewardship was the Spring 1954 campaign, which introduced Alec, “the hero or villain” of the Stop Accidents campaign. Alec was the first character to fulfill a niche later occupied by Vince and Larry, the Crash Dummies. Within the developing Alec cinematic universe, he used his nine lives to demonstrate how self-destructive some actions were. While Alec could bounce back and land on his feet after calamities, humans could be gravely injured or worse if they followed his lead.
With the end of Nunn’s tenure came a complete refresh of the Stop Accidents campaign. Also departing was the Young and Rubicam Advertising Agency, which had produced campaign materials since 1947. Therefore it is only fitting that we end our tale here. What started as a wartime initiative blossomed into an eight-decade-long crusade against poor driving habits. While this concludes one chapter in the history of the Ad Council, countless stories are waiting to be told about the Council’s 80 years of public service advertising. Advertising provides a glimpse into the mindsets and culture of those who create it. If you are interested in discovering other hidden stories, I invite you to contact us at the University Archives by email or stop by for a visit.
Artifacts used
13/02/201 Box 3, Meeting Notes March 18th, 1949
13/02/201 Box 6, Meeting Notes February 26th, 1954
13/02/207 Box 2, Fight Waste/Stop Accidents: Your Advertising Can Save Lives, undated. #176
13/02/207 Box 5, Stop Accidents: Green Cross/Traffic Safety, Fall 1948. #437b
13/02/207 Box 6, Stop Accidents: Traffic Safety, Fall 1949. #457
Uncle Sam. The personification of the United States Government. The paternalistic captain at the helm of the Republic, through tempests and torrents. A steadying constant since his inception during the War of 1812, right? Well, not exactly. The origin tale of Uncle Sam is one of obscurity, confusion, and mystery. We do not know the exact date of birth of Uncle Sam, nor do we know where his iconography begins and the older character, Brother Jonathan, ends. What we do know is by the 20th century, Uncle Sam was securely in position as a figure who called people to action.
Like Uncle Sam, the Ad Council’s birth is fuzzier than the reasons for their existence. The Council’s founders sought to unite the American people for common causes. They solved and spoke to problems that the federal government could not tackle alone. Constant, yet always evolving, the Ad Council and Uncle Sam reflect the sentiments, hopes, fears, and desires of their times. Is Uncle Sam standing resplendent and regal, as always? Is he dressing down to better relate to the working class? What about his expression? Is he confident? Angry? Determined? Depressed? If pictures are truly worth a thousand words each, then choices by the illustrators hired by the Ad Council can reveal much about the State of the Union.
The earliest usage of Uncle Sam by the Ad Council dates back to 1943. Created in conjunction with the Office of War Information (OWI) and the Council, the Security of War Information campaign utilized a hushing Uncle Sam insignia. The Security of War Information campaign implored citizens to be careful about what information they shared, regardless of how much faith they had in the receiver of said information. Uncle Sam’s disapproving librarian glare cut to the heart of the issue: your silence was golden. No matter the importance of what you were sharing, it was ruining the lives of other users of “library” materials. People took to this metaphor like flies to honey. Companies were encouraged by the OWI and Ad Council to spread this code of silence through their advertising.
While the campaign was popular, an official propaganda office was not. Created by Executive Order 9182 in the summer of 1942, the OWI operated as a governmental counterpart to the Council. Both worked to present a unified message to the American people. Whereas the Ad Council was a non-profit entity outside of the purview of the government, the OWI was explicitly an American propaganda agency. President Roosevelt, like the founders of the Ad Council, recognized the importance of an organized delivery of information. As the OWI and the Council celebrated their first success, people within and without the government spoke out against the OWI’s existence. The department was not free from controversy, however. Those who did not oppose a propaganda office in concept felt that previous attempts were heavily flawed and unsuccessful. The press worried about the influence the government could wield over the media. Members of Congress even feared that the Office could eventually resemble the Nazi propaganda apparatus created by Joseph Goebbels. The agency’s operations and influence were quickly curtailed. Despite this, the OWI and the Council continued their cooperation throughout the war.
Another product of this union was a series of victory garden advertisements produced from 1944 to the end of the war. Uncle Sam features prominently in most ads, meant to take up either half or a whole broadsheet newspaper page. For Once, Uncle Sam is not dressed to the nines. He has his sleeves rolled up. His brow is furrowed, with visible beads of sweat. In others, he brandishes garden implements as if they are weapons of war, daring the viewer to take up the fight. As a character, Uncle Sam can personify sentiments that the federal government as an abstract entity cannot. By showing Uncle Sam in more practical attire, the artist puts the viewer and the government on equal footing, a “we’re all in this together, your fight is our fight” kind of thing. Images of Uncle Sam and gardening tools as weapons attempt to link groups with unequal responsibilities. The Council wanted to make victory gardeners feel more connected to the war front. All Americans had to make sacrifices to best the Axis Powers. Even if you cannot pick up a rifle, the Council and OWI wanted to acknowledge your labor and show thanks.
To the victor, the spoils of war, the saying goes. The United States and its allies achieved total victory over the Axis powers. While the world celebrated the end of the conflict, the Ad Council and the Federal Government looked wearily ahead to the struggles to come. Both the Ad Council and the State Department agreed that a new war was on the horizon, albeit one fought within the hearts and minds of people. To win the Cold War, the US government needed to counteract Soviet propaganda at home and abroad.
One of these attempts was a series of pamphlets titled The Miracle of America. Here, Uncle Sam lectures the reader on the basics of the economy. The Ad Council (through the guise of Uncle Sam) states that America possessed a bounty of natural resources and an innovative spirit capable of taking full advantage of its situation. Uncle Sam admitted that American Capitalism is far from perfect. In the same breath, he states that our rise as a global power and the prosperity of our Nation would not be possible without it. The text juxtaposes two different concepts of what Uncle Sam represents. Firstly, we have Uncle Sam, the wise paternalistic leader of the Nation. While still friendly, there is a power imbalance inherent in the relationship between Uncle Sam and his “nieces and nephews.” He is the adult in the room. He is the authority on all subjects. All Americans must mind their Uncle Sam or suffer the consequences.
On the other, we have the proletariat Uncle Sam, the laborer hard at work around his “homestead.” This Uncle Sam does not awe you into submission with pomp and circumstance. He is an honest man, a simple one at that. This Uncle Sam is a paragon of American duty and sacrifice in ways that top hat and tails Uncle Sam could never approach. If formal Uncle Sam would host a cocktail party and discuss foreign relations, informal Uncle Sam would share a six-pack and discuss crop yields and issues at home. In short, one is the Federal Government looking outward. The other is when America puts itself under the microscope.
While people were already concerned about the spread of communism, this fear did not make its presence known in Ad Council materials until the beginning of the Korean War. Far from the first flare-up in US-Soviet relations, this was the first instance of armed conflict since World War II. As an avatar for the federal government, a stern but prepared Uncle Sam gears up for a fight he did not ask for but is more than happy to oblige. In this series of images, Uncle Sam returns to his formal attire. The humble Uncle Sam has been retired for one who means business. This Uncle Sam furrows his brows. He is disappointed to see peace be broken so soon after the cataclysm of the Second World War but is more than prepared to defend his vision for the world. The Uncle Sam we saw in earlier editions of The Miracle of America (and to a lesser extent the victory garden material) wanted to peacefully rebuild a better world and focus on getting his house in order. This Uncle Sam will flex his muscles and restore peace, even if he has to break a few bones in the process.
While this concludes one chapter in the history of the Ad Council, there are countless stories waiting to be told about the Council’s 80 years of public service advertising. Advertising provides a glimpse into the mindsets and culture of those who create it. If you are interested in discovering other hidden stories. I invite you to contact us at the University Archives by email or stop by for a visit.
The year is 1945. The Allies had defeated the Axis powers on three continents. Europe, except for neutral Spain, had been liberated from the evil specter that was fascism. Yet, as the ink dried on Germany’s capitulation, a new war appeared on the horizon. This new conflict was waged not on the battlefield but in the boardroom. Not on the Seine but with signs, posters, and bulletins. This war would be as frigid as the taigas and tundra of the Siberian landscape, with main combatants separated by thousands of miles and an infinitely wider political chasm. Little did they know, they were witnessing the dawn of the Cold War. But how does one win a war without physical battlefields? If you asked the Truman administration, the answer was on Madison Avenue.
The Advertising Council cut its teeth promoting government initiatives during the Second World War. While the boots on the ground fought overseas, the Ad Council was waging a war of its own in publications. To make good on President Roosevelt’s “Arsenal of Democracy” broadcast, Madison Avenue marshaled their marketing experience to sell the American people the importance of their individual contributions to the war effort. Images and broadcasts bombarded Americans, summoning everyday citizens to do their duty to triumph in this existential conflict. As one Ad executive stated in 1944, “So advertising, the voice of American industry, foolishly denounced by some as wasteful, sometimes despised as frivolous and actually marked for destruction by extremists in various governmental agencies, has modestly accomplished tasks essential to the United States and to a free world.[1]”
In this 1949 ad, the Ad Council announces that America is hiring “full time citizens” to build on the triumphs achieved by the American people.
Despite the end of armed conflicts in 1945, the wartime advertising apparatus did not dissolve. Both the Ad Council and the State Department agreed that a new war was on the horizon, albeit one fought within the hearts and minds of people. To win the Cold War, the US government needed an organized front to counteract Soviet propaganda at home and abroad, “The Radio Allocation plan is an excellent example of the teamwork in advertising that epitomizes the Council. After seven years, it still looks to many like the instrument which one national radio advertiser once called it: Perhaps the most powerful weapon for public service ever devised.[2]”
Found on the rear of a pamphlet titled Freedom is Everybody’s Job, this questionnaire asks if the reader has been doing their due diligence as a citizen.
Before the Korean War, the “most powerful weapon for public service ever devised” was squarely aimed at reminding Americans what made America different from other countries in the world. The American Heritage Foundation ran several campaigns imploring Americans to take advantage of their freedoms and be more active democratic participants. The campaign admitted that the American system was flawed but stressed the importance of a politically engaged populace for a thriving democracy. Union members who never attended meetings, stockholders who sat idly on top of their profits, and parents who did not join the local PTA were all called out as hindrances. Their laziness contrasted with the “full time citizen” who embodied the principles outlined by the founders of the Nation. The ads implored Americans to diligently and willfully perform all the tasks expected of them as full citizens of the United States to truly “work for freedom.”
After consulting with the Truman administration on “the national economy, national defense, and foreign relations,”[[3] the Council created the American Economic System campaign. First released in early 1949, it sought to explain the economic virtues of the United States and its brand of capitalism. This campaign featured ads that the Council helped place in newspapers and magazines, promoting the uniqueness of the United States. The campaign explicitly connected the freedoms guaranteed in the Constitution to the virtues of capitalism. Because of American capitalism, as the campaign materials claimed, people from all over the world flocked to the United States to escape famine and persecution.
Found on page 15 of the fifth edition of the Miracle of America, Uncle Sam encourages his fellow Americans to use the tools of democracy to build a healthier and stronger America.
Simultaneously, the Ad Council produced a pamphlet titled The Miracle of America which used Uncle Sam to lecture the reader on the basics of the economy. Uncle Sam explained that America was blessed with a bounty of natural resources and an innovative spirit capable of taking full advantage of its situation. The competitive nature inherent in capitalism made the US robust and resilient to whatever fate threw at the American people. The Ad Council’s pamphlet included several graphs that demonstrated how much better off the average American was. The average American worker made nearly twice as much as their contemporaries in the second most prosperous state, Canada.
In addition, the pamphlet sought to assuage fears of automation rendering American jobs obsolete. Between the post-war demobilization and the introduction of newer and more efficient machines, Americans worried about the long-term security of their jobs. Uncle Sam assured them that the introduction of new machines would not only create new jobs but continue to make lives easier. In his own words, “the machine isn’t an enemy, it’s a friend – and anything which helps us to turn out more work adds to our strength and prosperity.”[4]
Thanks to American’s industries being an ocean away from the brunt of the conflict, the United States was in a unique position to influence the restructuring of nations around the world. The Ad Council reminded Americans that they were truly lucky in more ways than one. There was much to be thankful for, and even more work to be done. If the United States wanted to make the world safe for democracy, its citizens needed to get their house in order as well.
While this concludes one chapter in the history of the Ad Council, there are countless stories waiting to be told about the Council’s 80 years of public service advertising. Advertising provides a glimpse into the mindsets and culture of those who create it. If you are interested in discovering other hidden stories. I invite you to contact us at the University Archives by email or stop by for a visit.
Sources
“Advertising and the War Effort.” Collier’s, August 26, 1944.
Ketchum, Alton. The Miracle of America. 5th Edition. New York, New York: The Advertising Council, 1950.
“Minutes of Meeting December 16, 1948.” Meeting Notes. New York, New York, December 16, 1948.
“Public Service by Radio Networks & Advertisers … 12 Months of 1948.” New York, New York: The Advertising Council, 1948.
On May 25th, 1961, President John F. Kennedy called for the nation to “commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to Earth.”
On July 20, 1969, Apollo 11 successfully landed on the surface of the moon, and 6 hours after landing Commander Neil Armstrong became the first person to step onto the lunar surface. This July 20th will mark the 50th anniversary of that historic event, and in honor of that day, a University of Illinois Archives exhibit calls attention to alumnus John C. Houbolt (B.S. 1940, M.S. 1942). For without his work and advocacy, the brave Apollo 11 astronauts would never have made it home.
Houbolt was a NASA aerospace engineer from Joliet, Illinois who developed the unpopular idea that to land a man on the moon and return safely, the only way was to use his concept of Lunar-Orbit-Rendezvous (LOR) and a lunar landing module. At the time the prevailing ideas for landing on the moon were Direct Descent or Earth-Orbit-Rendezvous. Neither of which would be cost-effective or feasible. The Lunar-Orbit-Rendezvous eventually became the ideal and safest way to accomplish a moon landing.
There are always scientists and engineers who may be responsible for the success of historic events but who remain anonymous to popular history. Without Houbolt’s idea and persistence, this event would not have been possible. So that he is not just a footnote in history our exhibit opens a window into the work and life of John C. Houbolt.
